The man shouldn't be here.

Marshal Seasonal Xiu Jun scrutinized the newcomer with a carefully neutral expression, his keen military eyes taking in every detail. The Director of the Research Department stood before him, still clad in the same attire he had worn during the court proceedings earlier that day. However, unlike the disheveled appearance he had sported at the end of the trial, the Director now looked considerably more presentable. His clothes were neatly pressed, and even his hair had been meticulously styled, as if he had taken great pains to groom himself.

But regardless of his polished appearance, the fact remained: this man had no business being in this place.

This was the Military Family Residential Area, a sanctum of security and privacy for those who served the Empire's armed forces. Without explicit permission from a resident, even someone of the Director's stature lacked the authority to set foot within these guarded confines.

The Empire's system of governance was built on a delicate balance of separation and mutual checks between military and political powers. The military, with its vast arsenal and formidable strength, held a sensitive position in the societal structure. As a counterbalance, military personnel were required to keep their families in the political center of the Empire Star. Under the watchful eyes of the political faction, the military naturally provided the utmost protection for their loved ones.

So, the presence of this man here was an anomaly that set off alarm bells in Seasonal's mind.

Seasonal's gaze flickered between the Research Director and the direction from which he had come. His mind rapidly assessed the layout of the residential area, piecing together the puzzle of the Director's unexpected appearance. With a tone of casual certainty that belied the gravity of the situation, he stated, "You're here to see Marshal Kevin."

The Research Director's face, already tense, darkened further at Seasonal's words.

For all his scientific acumen, the Director was still, at his core, a researcher. To a Marshal well-versed in interrogation techniques, applying pressure and planting psychological suggestions was child's play. Military interrogators, with their often dark and complex inner worlds, knew precisely how to gradually build tension, how to slow their approach to instill a sense of growing unease in their subject.

Seasonal's air of calm certainty, as if he knew everything, left the Director wondering if his own circle had been infiltrated, if there were eyes and ears reporting his every move. The thought made his complexion even more pallid.

Seasonal, noting the Director's reaction, knew he had hit the mark. Unfortunately for the Director, he was unaware that Marshal Kevin and Seasonal were allies in this matter.

Yue An, observing the tense exchange, glanced between the slightly portly human and the imposingly tall Seasonal in his crisp black uniform. After a moment's consideration, the feline padded over to Seasonal, gently rubbing against his leg in a show of allegiance.

"Meow," Yue An vocalized softly, as if to say, "No matter what, he's one of us. Nobody but me is allowed to give Seasonal a hard time."

The Marshal looked down at the white ball of fur that was now mewing up at him. Without hesitation, he bent down and scooped Yue An into his arms, allowing the cat to scramble up and perch on his broad shoulder. He showed no concern for the grey pawprints now decorating his immaculate sleeve, merely brushing at them lightly before striding past the still-frozen Research Director.

"Which way?" the Marshal inquired, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"Meow!" Yue An responded emphatically, extending a paw to point towards the path on the right.

Seasonal nodded almost imperceptibly and set off in the indicated direction. As they moved away, Yue An looked back at the man they were leaving behind. With a subtle flick of his paw, he cast a tendril of spiritual energy towards the Director, leaving an invisible mark upon him.

Seasonal, ever observant, sensed something odd but couldn't quite place it. "What are you up to?" he asked, turning his head slightly towards his feline companion.

"Meow," Yue An replied noncommittally, nuzzling against the Marshal's face. The soft fur, warmed by the sun, brushed against Seasonal's cheek, and he decided not to press the issue further.

Instead, he offered a word of caution: "Those wearing that kind of uniform aren't to be trusted. In the future, if you see them..." The Marshal paused, considering his words carefully before continuing, "Either knock them out or run. Understood?"

As they walked, Seasonal's mind wandered to the intricacies of the Research Department's hierarchy. The uniforms worn by ordinary researchers differed significantly from those of the higher-ups. In every era and every place, symbols of privilege and status always existed, and the Research Department was no exception.

While there was some overlap in their work, the vast majority of ordinary researchers in the department were dedicated scientists, genuinely contributing to the betterment of human society. A simple example was the takeout container Yue An had used earlier—an invention from one of the department's plant science research teams.

The Imperial Research Department was the holy grail for biology research students from the top universities. It brought together the most brilliant biological scientists from all eighteen major star systems of the Cintes Empire. In terms of achievements in biological sciences, no other research institute dared to claim superiority over the Imperial Research Department.

However, as in any field, there were always those fanatics who pursued the extreme, disregarding ethics, laws, and even basic human decency in their quest for knowledge. They were not afraid to touch upon forbidden subjects, to cross lines that should never be crossed.

Imperial law strictly prohibited live experiments on sentient beings, except for criminals condemned to death for the most heinous crimes. Cloning, in particular, was absolutely forbidden. To prevent cloning technology from becoming widely accessible, even techniques for cloning livestock had been completely destroyed once human living environments had stabilized.

There would always be those who sought to touch the untouchable. The development of a mature industry around such technologies would inevitably lead to a host of social issues—human trafficking, human rights violations, and the erosion of social fabric.

Manipulating the lives of others at will was a grave taboo. Once the arrogance latent in human nature was unleashed without restraint, it would become a Pandora's box, bringing near-apocalyptic disaster to the world. Even in an era of rapid advancements in life sciences, humans must not lose their fundamental reverence for wisdom and life.

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Those in the Research Department who had immersed themselves in the cutting edge of biological science, ultimately becoming obsessed, sneered at these legal statutes and moral codes.

The Cintes Empire, with its vast population, never lacked for criminals sentenced to death. However, most of these convicts possessed nothing particularly noteworthy about them.

Nothing like SS-grade genes, for instance.

It was precisely this rarity that had put Marshal Seasonal Xiu Jun in the crosshairs of those unscrupulous researchers years ago.

An SS-grade genetic specimen was invaluable, enough to make those mad scientists who had grown bored with ordinary human experimentation cast aside all pretense of ethics and decency. They had brazenly stormed the military department to seize him.

The two months Seasonal spent in the custody of the Research Department were a nightmare he preferred not to recall. The experiences he endured during that time were etched into his psyche, a constant reminder of the depths to which supposedly civilized beings could sink in pursuit of knowledge.

He had eventually managed to overturn the experiment tables, causing enough of an uproar to secure his return to the military. From that point on, Seasonal had thrown himself into the thick of battle with a single-minded determination that bordered on self-destruction. His meteoric rise to the rank of Marshal by the age of seventy was unprecedented - even the founding Emperor of the Cintes Empire hadn't possessed such formidable combat prowess.

For comparison, the legendary Marshal Kevin, who had defined an entire era, had only attained the rank of Marshal at the age of one hundred and twenty-two.

What drove Seasonal to push himself so relentlessly?

Initially, it had been pure survival instinct. His excellence and the public attention he garnered made it difficult for those in the Research Department who coveted him to make any overt moves. They were forced to resort to more subtle machinations.

As a result, the Marshal had an intimate and chilling understanding of the clandestine activities undertaken by those at the pinnacle of the contemporary Research Department. Every experiment that had been explicitly forbidden, they conducted without hesitation.

Seasonal often reflected that if the researchers had had prior experience with SS-grade genetic subjects and had been aware of his body's true resilience, he might never have made it off that experimenting table alive. His opportunity to observe and eventually expose their activities had been a narrow escape indeed.

While Seasonal held no animosity towards those who pursued knowledge with genuine passion and ethical considerations, he harbored a deep-seated loathing for those particular individuals in the Imperial Research Department. This antipathy extended to coloring his view of the entire department.

In turn, apart from those few who had tried to manipulate him, no one in the Imperial Research Department dared to approach the Marshal or attempt to curry favor with him. His reputation preceded him, a combination of his fearsome combat abilities and his barely concealed contempt for their organization.

"They're after you too," the Marshal warned as he walked, recalling the strongly worded document he had received earlier, purportedly from the Research Department. "If you go out alone, be careful. Don't let them get the upper hand."

Yue An leaped down from Seasonal's shoulder, turning to face him with an unusually serious expression. The cat sat up straight, mirroring the Marshal's grave demeanor.

"Meow!" Yue An vocalized emphatically, as if to convey his understanding of the situation's gravity.

The Marshal was visibly pleased with his cat's apparent comprehension and compliance. His satisfaction only grew when he realized that Yue An had led him out to enjoy a delicious meal.

Years of military discipline had honed Seasonal's ability to quickly modulate his emotions. The day's unpleasantness, marked by encounters with detestable faces, began to dissipate. In its place, a sense of contentment arose, fueled by the delightful aromas of the food and the knowledge that his mere presence was causing discomfort among those high-ranking officials he despised.

Unable to resist, Seasonal reached out to ruffle Yue An's head affectionately. The cat, deeply engrossed in his meal, swatted the hand away with a paw.

"Meow!" Yue An protested, as if to say, "I'm eating! Keep your hands to yourself!"

The Marshal, his face impassive, observed Yue An's careful, measured bites. Without warning, he pulled the plate closer to himself.

Yue An looked up, bewildered: ??

"I'll feed you," Seasonal stated matter-of-factly. He picked up the knife and fork, deftly cutting the meat into small, bite-sized pieces no larger than the tip of his little finger. He then speared a morsel and held it out to Yue An.

The cat eyed the small piece of meat, then glanced up at Seasonal's face, before finally stretching forward to accept the offered bite.

The restaurant, recommended by those elite patrons, lived up to its reputation. The flavors were exquisite. While the Marshal exercised restraint in his eating, Yue An showed no such compunction, sampling every recommended dish with unbridled enthusiasm.

As they left the restaurant, Yue An, now comfortably ensconced in the Marshal's pocket, licked his paws contentedly. The universe was vast, he mused. Today this restaurant, tomorrow another. After the capital, there were other cities to explore, and beyond their planet, countless other worlds. To Yue An, this life with the Marshal was nothing short of paradise.

The Marshal carried his feline companion home as night fell. The starlight had dimmed, but the small stone lanterns in the yard cast a soft, welcoming glow.

Normally at this hour, Marshal Seasonal would be engrossed in virtual training simulations or dominating various battle platforms. But tonight, he found himself uncharacteristically inclined towards rest.

Yue An, still nestled in the Marshal's pocket, was carried directly into the bedroom. In one fluid motion, Seasonal removed his uniform jacket and tossed it, cat and all, onto the bed.

The white ball of fur, momentarily disoriented, struggled to extricate himself from the folds of the high-quality military uniform. Finally, Yue An's small head emerged, whiskers twitching as he took in his surroundings.

Noting the empty room and the sound of running water from the bathroom, Yue An sprang into action. He scampered over to the box he had previously shredded, fishing out a spirit stone. Then, with determined effort, he dragged the holographic computer from the living room.

When Seasonal emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped over his damp hair, he was greeted by the sight of Yue An sitting primly on the carpet. The cat looked up, his sapphire eyes meeting the Marshal's gaze.

"Meow," Yue An called out, his voice sweet and cajoling.

Seasonal knew from experience that this particular tone usually preceded a request of some sort. His cat language skills, which had improved dramatically of late, allowed him to pick up on these subtle cues.

The Marshal observed silently as Yue An patted the spirit stone beside him, then used his paw to push the holographic computer forward. Once again, the cat let out a saccharine meow.

Seasonal's gaze moved from the energy crystal to the nearly empty box that had been full just that morning. He quickly grasped Yue An's intent.

"You want to buy more energy crystals?" he asked, though it was more statement than question.

Yue An's ears perked up instantly. "Meow!" he affirmed enthusiastically.

To acquire energy crystals, one had to venture into the offline black market. The Marshal mentally reviewed his schedule. "We can go tomorrow," he decided.

Excited, Yue An scampered over to Seasonal, rubbing against his bare legs with vigor. "Meow~"

However, the Marshal's next words brought Yue An's celebration to an abrupt halt. "You're not coming with me."

Yue An froze mid-nuzzle. He looked up at the Marshal, suddenly silent. Without another sound, he leaped onto the bed and burrowed into the soft blankets.

The next morning, as soon as the Marshal, now dressed in civilian clothes, approached the door, Yue An sprang into action. With a powerful leap, the cat latched onto Seasonal's arm.

Seasonal paused at the threshold, looking down at his feline companion. Yue An clung desperately to his arm, letting out heart-wrenching wails at the slightest touch, as if the Marshal were subjecting him to unspeakable cruelty.

The Marshal regarded Yue An silently, his expression unreadable. Meeting Seasonal's steady gaze, Yue An licked his small nose nervously, but continued his dramatic performance. All the while, he tightened his grip on the Marshal's arm.

In Yue An's mind, one thought reigned supreme: Nobody can resist an adorable little cat!

Nobody!!